


The Friend of a Friend

by TheSherlockedWhovian



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSherlockedWhovian/pseuds/TheSherlockedWhovian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kerri Summers, the best friend of John Watson comes back to her native London after spending the last two years in New York. With John moving in with Mary, and Kerri having nowhere to stay, Mrs. Hudson insists that she takes up John's old residence, resulting in Kerri facing Sherlock and discovering something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Final Page

The Final Page

'Are you sure having the girl is going to bring Sherlock to us?' I heard the first man say. He sounded panicked and not too far away, I had no idea who he was though.  
'If anything is going to bring him here, it's her.' another voice, further away from me this time and through the nausea and dizziness I managed to open my eyes and mumble.  
'You're wrong...' I managed, barely a whisper but they heard  
'What was that Poppet?' that was the first man, the one closest to me, he was tall, old, dark hair.  
'About Sherlock, he won't come for me. He doesn't care for me, you should have taken John, I'm just a friend of a friend to him.' in my head all I can see is those blue eyes, on my level staring straight into my brown eyes, uncovering every feeling I have ever felt for him and knowing.  
'He will come. Trust me, we didn't take John for a reason, Kelly, right?'  
'It's Kerri,' the second man stalked across the room at me, my red hair was in front of my eyes and I couldn't tell whether it was the light of whether there was blood in my hair, I guessed it was blood. My head was spinning and I could hardly see straight, but the guy walking towards me was shorter than the other and wider. He came so close, I could smell his sweat, he studied me. 'You love him.'  
'Sorry,' I stammered  
'You love him, Sherlock Holmes, you're in love with him.' the tall man repeated.  
'Yes,' I whispered, 'Yes, I'm in love with him...but he doesn't know I exist. I'm John's best friend, not Sherlock's. Holding me was a mistake.' everything was a whisper and I could feel the tear building up and threatening to spill over, I tried my best to blink them back but not before the short man noticed.  
'You really don't think he is coming do you?'  
'No, I don't. I think he sees me as more of a sister if anything. He doesn't care for me and he sure as hell does not love me...'  
'You're wrong.' my breathe caught. That was neither of the men in the room with me and I know that deep honey silk voice anywhere. I couldn't raise my head to see, and my eyes were filled with tears so everything would have been a blur anyway.  
His footsteps echoed in whatever room we were in. it was dark and dank and smelt of damp, definitely underground somewhere, an old tube station maybe. The short guy in front of me had walked away and I didn't know where till, until I felt the yank on my hair and my head pulled back as something cool and sharp was placed tightly against my neck. I slowly opened my eyes and saw Sherlock stood across from me. his dark hair in a messy wave. His face was hard and still, there was no emotion on his face at all, he had his hands in his pockets. No emotions on his face, but his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes were full of worry, hurt, madness, also full of anger and fury but most of all, for some strange reason, when he locked eyes with me, they were so full of love.  
'Kerri!' my eyes snapped away from Sherlock's and over his shoulder at John. John was here as well. Of course, Sherlock was only here for John. He was only ever there for John, no-one else. I looked between them, from Sherlock to John and back, whatever I saw in his eyes was go now, there was no love there. Just cold ice. I tried to smile at John, to let him know that somehow I was okay even though I'm not, but my head was pulled further back. I figured one of them moved.  
'You really ought to let her go, you know.' that was Sherlock's voice, I couldn't see but there was no emotion there what-so-ever. Much like his eyes, it was ice cold. Like I said to the men, he doesn't care for me, I'm John's best friend, this is hurting him more than it is hurting Sherlock, it's probably not hurting him at all. I couldn't help it and a tear escaped. Later on I can tell them it was because they were trying to kill me, not because Sherlock doesn't care.  
'Why would we do that genius? As long as we have her, we have you, oh look Sherlock, your girlfriend is crying, she didn't think you were going to come.'  
'I'm not,' I choked, 'I'm not his girlfriend.' I shouldn't have said that as it resulted in my head being pulled further back and the blade pressed harder into my skin and I whimpered at the sharp sting on my neck.  
'Alright stop it now! Kerri has nothing to do with whatever this is!' that was John and I heard a shuffle, it sounded more like a struggled actually and I figured that Sherlock had to hold John back.  
'Oh look poppet, your boyfriend is getting mad. We hurt you and he wants to come running.' there was a dry laugh from the tall guy stood somewhere to my left.  
'John isn't my boyfriend either.'  
'I wasn't talking about John. Oh, you can't see can you? John is holding Sherlock back. How romantic.' my heart stopped. John holding Sherlock back, that couldn't possibly be true, he didn't care for me, he had no reason to even be here.  
'Don't lie to me, please...'  
'Oh trust me Kerri he isn't, you know, Sherlock is a lot stronger than he looks. Guys come on, just let her go before I let him go as I am pretty sure he is going to do some damage.' John's worried voice cut through the pain in my head. Sherlock really was trying to get to me. That wasn't right, they were all lying to me.  
'He doesn't care for me!' I snapped, shouted as loud as I could with my throat so dry. The short guy let my head go and it collapsed onto my chest, that hurt. I started to cry and I felt so pathetic. I'm sat here crying over the fact that Sherlock doesn't care for me instead of the fact that I was drugged beaten and now being held captive because of Sherlock. I managed enough strength to hold my head up a little and right into the cold eyes of Sherlock.  
'What are you talking about?' he asked, calming down, no longer fighting now that my life was no longer in danger, 'You think I don't care for you? You think I am only here for the benefit of John? I can see it in your eyes, the way you hold yourself. You are shying away, you want me to be here but at the same time you would rather I not be.' he was slowly walking towards me, none of the other men made a move. 'Kerri, listen to me, relax, I am here to get you, I am not here because John went racing out the door before I could blink. You need to relax because any minute now, well in two minutes actually, Lastrade is going to be here and there is no way out of here except the door that John is about to block.' he was crouched in front of me and the ice had gone from his eyes but there was no hint of what was there before. Now there was just warmth.  
'Lastrade? Who the Hell is Lastrade?' the short man demanded of Sherlock, his eyes never left mine.  
'The Detective Inspector currently coming down the stairs behind the door of which John is stood in front of. John, I suggest you move before the door gets opened on you.' slowly, Sherlock began to untie the rope from around my wrists but before he did so he moved the hair out of my face, and checked the gash on my forehead, I was beginning to lose consciousness again and the nausea was starting to hit me. He looked at me carefully, lifting my head and holding it up as I couldn't, I lost all my strength.  
'Oi, Sherlock, how did you know that? That they were coming?' the tall guy asked as Lastrade came bursting through the door.  
'Because, when I entered this subway ticket office, I called the police, knowing it would take then exactly 10 minutes. I also calculated the number of exists, answer being one, the door we came in through. whilst we were all talking, threatening Kerri's life, I was counting away in my head, after eight minutes, I announced that you had two minutes until Lastrade got here. I knew this because unlike, the rest of you, I noticed the quiet vibrations and the fine rubble falling from the ceiling as Lastrade and his men walked overhead and towards the stair well.'  
'Good isn't he?' Lastrade announced from behind Sherlock, I watched him walk over to the two men who were stood quietly against the wall while Donovan, I think that was her name, arrested them. in front of my Sherlock was still holding my head up and he could see that I was fading out. He began to quickly untie the rest of the rope holding me to the chair, the ones around my ankles and my waist.  
'Kerr? Stay with me. John! what's wrong with her?' John came rushing forward as Sherlock lifted me out of the chair and into his arms. John's fingers were working over me, checking my pulse, looking at the gash on my head. All I could see was Sherlock's face, staring worriedly at me, everything was slowly fading to black and the last thing I saw was his perfect blue eyes before the darkness engulfed me.


	2. Meeting Mr Holmes

Meeting Mr. Holmes

 

The sleek black cab I was travelling in pulled up outside of 221B Baker Street and I stared at the patent black door, it glowed orange in the early sunset. I stepped out of the cab, my heels echoed on the concrete and I walked round the back and collected my suitcase from the trunk before walking to the driver's window and paying him. Behind me he drove off as I stared at the building in front of me, hopefully he will be here.   
I walked up to the door and rang the bell, then waited. An elderly woman with, short pixie like blonde hair and fading green eyes answered the door.   
'Hello dear, can I help you?' she smiled brightly at me.   
'Hello yes, I'm looking for John, John Watson, he told me he was living here.'  
'Oh dear, he hasn't lived here for two years, not since...never mind, I'm Mrs. Hudson, landlady,' she began saying something else but I cut her off.   
'Never mind, I'll go call a cab and head to a hotel or something, sorry to have bothered you.' I turned and began to walk away.   
'Nonsense, Sherlock is in, I'm sure he can drop John a text for you, come on in side...'  
'Mrs. Hudson really, I shouldn't...'  
'Don't be silly dear,' she turned into the house and shouted up the stairs, 'Sherlock, come and help this young lady with her bag would you, she is refusing to come inside. A friend of John's.' I smiled to myself, John had mentioned Sherlock to me once or twice but that did not prepare me for what came down those stairs.   
A tall dark haired man descended the stairs behind Mrs. Hudson, his broad shoulders emphasised what he was wearing. He wore a slick black suit jacket and crisp white shirt, however, it was accompanied by a pair of dark blue jeans topped off with patent black shoes. Not going to lie, his face was perfect, this is strange but he had a perfect jaw line, his cheekbones cast in a subtle shadow and the brooding look swimming in his beautiful blue eyes and a gorgeous mop of black curly hair atop that gorgeous face of his. He looked at me confused, like he was trying to figure me out but couldn’t. He stood beside Mrs. Hudson and just stared at me for a bit before speaking.   
'You shouted for me?' he asked looking to the left and down on her.   
'Yes Sherlock dear, this is...' Mrs. Hudson stumbled, not knowing my name.   
'Kerri, Kerri Summers. I'm a friend of John's.' I held out my ha d for Sherlock and he took it.   
'A friend of John's you say? So how come he has never mentioned you?'  
'I'll be asking him the same thing when I see him. I am his best friend after all.'  
'Wrong.'  
'Excuse me?'  
'Sherlock, please?' Mrs. Hudson pleaded with him.   
'I think you will find that I am John Watson's best friend. He said so himself, took me quite of guard.'  
'Okay, then, I may be his best female friend...'  
'That position is also taken by Miss Mary Morston, his fiancé.'   
'Hold up, John is engaged?! Why this man has a lot to answer for.'  
'Yet he won't be answering question from someone he does not know.'  
'Okay, Mr. Holmes, is it? Listen up. You can have more than one best friend, you and Mary were not the first friend of John Watson. Me and john, we went to nursery, primary school, secondary school and collage together. I went to university, he went off to join the army. He went and invaded Afghanistan the year after I moved to New York. I have just got back and decided to surprise my best friend. This is the last address he gave me, as obviously he has been a little secretive when it comes to his life of late, so I would be very grateful if you could please call your best friend, tell him that I am here and then it would be wonderful if you could please bring my bag into the house.' I smiled politely at him then turned to Mrs. Hudson and softened my tone, 'Mrs. Hudson, would you please be so kind as to show me the way, John tell me you make a wonderful cup of tea.' Mrs. Hudson was trying her hardest to stifle the laughter that was just begging to be let out, she nodded, turned and walked back into the house. I began to walk past Sherlock when stopped me. Standing incredibly close, noses almost touching.   
'Miss. Summers...'  
'Kerri.'  
'Welcome to 221B Baker Street, Miss Summers.'  
'Thank you Mr. Holmes...'  
'Sherlock.'  
'It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Holmes.'   
I walked past him and followed Mrs. Hudson up the stairs. She was carrying a try, obviously put together while me and Sherlock exchanged words on the door step. I look back to find Sherlock talking into his phone, I heard him mention my name. Not long after he put the phone down and walked towards my case. I hastily turned back around and continued up the stairs. At the top Mrs. Hudson directed me through the door directly opposite to me however she took the door to the left of us.   
When I walked through the door, I found myself directly across from a window, on my right there was a coffee table, littered with papers and magazines, behind that stood a grey leather sofa with two cushions at each end. It was up against a black and white, sort of fleur de lis pattern, however, there was a yellow smiley face in the top left hand corner and on closer inspection it appeared to have been shot. In the far right hand corner stood a bookcase. I looked down and the floor boards were empty apart from the old red rug that was across half the room. In the left side of the room, on the far wall was the fire, on the wooden mantelpiece above, among other things, was a skull. Above the mantel was a mirror reflecting the wallpaper of the opposite, depending on where you stood you could see the yellow smile. In the alcove to the left, there was a cabinet in place, a cupboard at the bottom, it appeared one of the shelves had been removed in order to fit in the clearly un used television. The shelves above where still there and in use, packed completely with old books, files and papers. In the right alcove, a bookcase stood, in better condition and better used, books stacked neatly. In front of the fire where two chairs, situated opposite each other, one facing the other window, was red and faded, a blanket hanging over it back, it had a small table placed either side of it, obviously for books and cups of tea. The other chair, with its back to the window was grey leather, an obvious match to the sofa. In the corner stood a music stand, and on the floor next to it sat a beautiful violin. Against the wall between the windows was a desk, a laptop open at one end, a chair at either end. The only thing on this small section of wall was a, bison skull? Wearing headphones?  
Mrs. Hudson came out of the kitchen behind me then, I hadn't even noticed the frosted glass sliding doors behind me. She indicted for me to sit down and I opted for the grey chair with its back to the window, there was a lot of noise coming from the stairwell which led us to believe that Sherlock was having trouble brining my case up the stairs. Mrs. Hudson looked at me strangely, without saying a word, then smiled at me and handed me a cup of tea, asked me if I wanted sugar then went back into the kitchen just as Sherlock came thought the door backwards, dragging my case, he propped it against the wall then turned, started to walk towards me then stopped.   
'Can I help you?' he asked, putting his hands behind his back. 'Need a cushion or something?'  
'No thank you,' I smiled sweetly at him, and held up my tea, 'I'm perfectly comfortable.'   
'Ah right, good. Yes, good.' He looked around his room, as if he is looking for something.   
'Have you lost something, Mr. Holmes?'   
'Yes Miss Summers, my seat.'   
'Oh dear, how tragic, maybe you ought to report it? Mrs. Hudson, have you heard, Mr. Holmes has lost his seat.' Mrs. Hudson turned to look at me from the kitchen, pure delight on her face.   
'You misunderstand me Miss Summers, I have no lost, nor misplaced my seat, you are, in fact, seated in it.'   
'Mr Holmes, I am terribly sorry, please forgive me, would you like me to replace myself into a different seat?'  
'yes thank you that would be delightful...' he began taking a step forward but I sunk further back into the chair and crossed my legs.   
'Tough, I see no name on this particular chair and I believe there are at least six other seats within this room, not to mentions the chairs at the table in the kitchen.' I smiled at him and took a sip of my tea. He looked my grumpily, I make the connection that this is the face he pulls when he loses an argument with John. And that is one of the things that John has not failed to mention to me, unlike the moving out thing or the getting engaged thing. Sherlock turned and stalked towards the kitchen and Mrs. Hudson.   
'Mrs. Hudson, do we have any biscuits?'  
'I don't know dear, have a look for yourself.'  
'Don't you start as well...'  
'I don't know what you are talking about Sherlock, biscuits are in the shop on the corner.' She smiled and walked towards me, taking the red chair opposite me.   
'Mr Holmes,' I called and Sherlock turned to look at me, 'there appears to be only five seats remaining you better make your selection quickly.' He looked at me like he was a volcano ready to erupt. He turned on his heels and stomped sulkily out the kitchen door and down the stairs, we heard the door close and Mrs. Hudson looked at me as if she were to say something but didn’t get a chance as we heard the door open and close again. In the next second, Sherlock was walking into the living room, through the same door as me, he closed it, took his coat of the back of it and put it on before turning to me and Mrs. Hudson before saying,  
'I forgot this,' I gave a little smile and disappeared out the door before popping his head round the door frame once more and pointed at me, 'Don't touch anything,' he then pointed at the skull on the mantel, 'especially Frank.' And with that he was gone. 

'Mrs. Hudson! I'm back!' Sherlock shouted as he came up the stairs, 'and I have...' he walked into the living room and stopped dead upon casting his eyes on me 'biscuits.'   
'Forgotten me already, Mr. Holmes?'  
'Of course not Summers.' He said as he walked into the kitchen and plonked the bag of biscuits down on the table.   
'Alright then Holmes-y.' Sherlock turned sharply to stare daggers at me, I shrugged and smiled sweetly. Opposite me, again Mrs. Hudson was stifling an outburst of laughter.   
'Yes, alright, come and choose your biscuits.' He said as he dumped the contents of the bag onto the counter.   
'What did you do Sherlock? Buy the corner shop out when it came to biscuits?'   
'Just one of each Mrs Hudson, I was unaware of which you liked.' Mrs Hudson had gotten up and walked to stand next to Sherlock, I had stayed exactly where I was, partly afraid that if I moved Sherlock would steal his chair back. That couldn't happen, what would I have to wind him up with?   
'Do you have oreos?' I asked, taking a sip of my tea. He looked at me confused and then to his collection of biscuits on the table.   
'Unfortunately Miss Summers, no I don't have oreos.'  
'Well then I am happy to go without Mr. Holmes.' Sherlock dropped the packet of biscuits he was holding and looked at me, 'what? I never asked for biscuits in the first place, you did.'   
'Yes, you are correct. Quite true.' He looked at me for a minute before he went back to sorting the biscuits out with Mrs Hudson, who still looked quite amused by the whole thing.   
'Sherlock! You in! Mrs. Hudson? What's the emergency?' John came up the stairs then and Sherlock stepped in his way, standing in the doorway.   
'Now John, I want you to remain calm.' Sherlock said calmly then stepped aside so that john could see me.


	3. Friends Re-United

Friends Reunited 

'Sherlock, she's in your chair?' John looked at me   
'Yes.'   
'My best friend is sat in your chair?' he looked to Sherlock   
'Yes I am quite aware of that.' Sherlock looked at me and for the first time smiled. John looked at me then back to Sherlock.   
'How is that even possible?' Sherlock shrugged and looked to me.   
'You see John, what I did was, I walked up here, and sat down. You know, like a normal human being, minus Mr Holmes here...'  
'Since when do you call people by their last names?' John asked me confused, I put my tea down and focus on him.   
'Since he insisted he call me Miss Summers. Since when does my best friend not tell me they are engaged?' I smirked at him.   
'I um...I was um...I...you win. Yet again you win Kerri.' He smiled, a massive beam spread from ear to ear. He chucked Sherlock his jacket as he came walking to over me, I stood up just in time for John to wrap his arms around me and pick me up in a spinning hug. 'When did you get here?'   
'About an hour ago, I've been annoying your FRIEND here ever since.' I smiled and nodded to Sherlock.   
'Can we back up a little bit...' Sherlock began  
'No.' Me and John cut in and said together, however, he carried on regardless.   
'What do you mean, Kerri wins again?' he looked at John and I sat back down in his chair.   
'Kerri here is a lot like you in the sense that she always wins.' John stated then Sherlock looked at me.   
'Even against you Mr Holmes. I may not be as cleaver as you, but I certainly know how to use my tongue.' I winked at him and he turned away as he cheeks turned red. John looked at me smiling and Mrs. Hudson came into the living room carrying a try a of biscuits laughing out loud, apparently she had finally given in.   
'John please, get this insufferable woman away from me.' Sherlock practically begged. John laughed and I laughed too.   
'John,' I said pulling on the sleeve of his jumper and pouting like a little girl, 'he doesn't like me John, I'm too sarcastic.'   
' I know and you get that from me. I've got nowhere to put her, you're the one with the spare room.'   
'What?' Sherlock spun sharply and found me smiling smugly at him, ' no, no, no, no I don't, honestly John, I don't know what you're talking about.' Sherlock looked around the room, at everything except for me and John.   
'Sherlock is right John,' Mrs Hudson began.  
'Thank you Mrs. Hudson.'  
'I wasn't finished dear. Sherlock may not have a spare room, but I do, right here, in 221B. How long will you be staying?' Mrs. Hudson said beaming at me and completely ignoring Sherlock's mumbled protests.   
'I'm not sure how long I'll be here.' I replied.   
'Either way Kerri, I'll pay your rent.'   
'What, John, no, I can't let you do that.'   
'Kerri shut up. You came here to see me, with no plan, no back up, nothing, it's the least I can do.' John just smiled at me and I smiled back, tears in my eyes. I blinked the back and then sat there smiling at Sherlock as he looked at everyone defeated. He grabbed his coat off the back of the door and put it on.   
'This is the worst day ever.' He mumbled as he began walking out the room. John looked livid and Mrs. Hudson looked as though she didn't quite know what to make of the whole thing. I looked at John and smiled sweetly as I went out the door after Sherlock.   
'Hey, wait. I'm sorry. John told me about you, how to annoy you and that it was fun, and he is right, it is. But if you think I'm here to torment you, your wrong. I'm here to see my best friend, for the first time in god knows how many years. It's been that long I can't remember. When John got shot, I was in New York and I couldn't get here, had I, we may have met earlier and you probably wouldn't have a problem with me living here now. And I don't mean to tutee my own trumpet or whatever the saying is, but I'm not that bad, and I'm not usually this sarcastic, well, maybe a little, but you can blame John for that.' I turned and started to walk up the stairs when John appeared at the top of them, just as the door shut behind me.   
'don't be nice to him, he made me think he was dead for two years.' John said looking past me and at the door. I stopped in my tracks.  
'I'm sorry what?'   
'He called me, told me to go to Saint Bart's and when I got there he was standing on the roof, telling me that this, him calling me was his note, and then I watched him fall. He was dead Kerri, I checked his pulse and everything, he was dead. Then two years later, I'm in a restaurant with Mary trying to propose and he turns up. I don't know how he did it, I don't want to know.' I looked at John, tear filling in my eyes. I know that John loved that man, no matter how much he infuriates him and I could see the pain spread clearly across his face when he was just talking about it. How could anyone do that to John, my John Watson. No one does that to a man as great as John Watson and gets away with it. John could see the fury on my face and reached out for me, 'Kerri, no. I know you, I know what you are thinking, don't do it.' I turned away and headed out the door. Sherlock had just reached the corner.   
'Sherlock Holmes you stop right where you are and listen to me!' I shouted just as he turned the corner. I didn't know whether he heard me and as I started walked towards me, he walked backwards back round the corner and turned to face me. I walked up to him and back handed him clean around his face, my ring slicing cleanly though hid flesh, leaving the smallest of gashes oozing the smallest amount of blood. Behind me, John called my name in shock. 'You bastard! How dare you! How the hell could you do that to your best friend?! I was actually nice to you and you let your best friend believe that you were dead for two years.'   
'Oh so now we are in agreement that John Watson is my best friend?'   
'No! You do not get to talk! You don't get to say anything and you are not getting out of this. You did this to John Watson, of all people why do it to one of the greatest men that I'm pretty sure you have ever met? You knew it would destroy him and it did. You did not see the pain on his face when he told me about it just now, seeing my best friend in that much pain, I can't handle that, everything makes sense to me now. I didn't hear from my best friend for two years because you were meant to be dead. You 'dying' didn't just effect John, it affected me, but why would you care about that? You're the famous Sherlock Holmes, but you're so selfish and arrogant that only you matter to you. Because if John truly mattered to you, you would have never have done that, if he was truly YOUR best friend, you should never have been able to do that to John Watson. If you ever do anything like that again, I will do more than cut you.' I looked at Sherlock for a moment before pulling a tissue out of my pocket and handing to him for his cut. I reached up and turned his head so I could get a better look. It wasn't in need of stitches at least. 'You should probably get a plaster for that.' I said and walked away.   
I met John half way down the pavement and he hugged me, really tight, so tight I could hardly breath. I had to pat him on the back in order for him to let go. Mrs. Hudson was standing in the door way of Baker Street, took one look at me and then at Sherlock who was slowly walking back towards us, carefully dabbing the cut on his face.   
'I'll put the kettle on then, shall I?' she asked as John passed with me, is arm wrapped around my shoulders. He nodded. Upstairs, I looked at Sherlock's chair before curling up in the corner of the sofa.


End file.
